


Doom, Doom, Doom

by Youwerenevermeanttofeelalone



Category: Doctor Doom - Fandom, Marvel Comics
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, Light Angst, Mentions of Sex, Victor speaks like his dramatical self, mentions (only that I promise) of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:40:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24244405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Youwerenevermeanttofeelalone/pseuds/Youwerenevermeanttofeelalone
Summary: Your husband from an arranged marriage accidentally hugs you.Based off “Tsundere Boyfriend Accidentally Hugs You” by Fuzzi ASMR on YouTube per request of a reader.
Relationships: Victor Von Doom/Plus Size Reader, Victor von Doom/Reader
Kudos: 17





	Doom, Doom, Doom

**Author's Note:**

> @youwerenevermeanttofeelalone on tumblr.

Your husband groaned upon facing you. “You’re upset, again?”

You considered not answering him so he wouldn’t hear the hoarseness in your voice or how clogged your nose was, but he hated being ignored. “It’ll pass,” you rasped. 

“It better pass.” He turned around and walked toward his standing desk where the prototype for his newest invention laid. 

Your bottom lip trembled as you hung your head and attempted to work in your own project. You had been working on the update for the diplomatic doombots for weeks now with no success. A sob escaped you, prompting you to cover your mouth with both hands. 

He sighed in annoyance, “If you’re keeping on crying, go somewhere else. You’re making Doom feel... weird.”

Tapping on the button that would save your notes, you scurried off to the laboratory’s exit. Your husband spoke again, “wait!”

You rotated on your spot to not give him your back and stood there in expectancy. 

“What is it? The doombots?” Seeing you nod in confirmation, he groaned again, “of course that’s the problem. Doom knew it. Updating them is the easiest task anyone could have. Does Doom have to teach you about Latverian technology again?” His voice somewhat softened as the question slid past his masked face, muffled due to the plate. 

He motioned for you to follow his strut toward your desk, instructing you to type in your password. He knew the code, but you had to appreciate the gesture. However, you hesitated on opening the file and he soon found why — the little progress you had made the last time the two of you worked on the project together had been undone, he didn’t know how you had managed to turn it into something worse than the current model. 

“How did you— forget it! Doom doesn’t understand, Doom can’t believe this...” your whimpering caught his attention, making him tilt his head so he could look at you. “Don’t cry! Doom can fix it. Doom is however baffled with the results when the only reason Doom married you is your genius intellect.”

His comment made you cry harder. He constantly reminded you that your marriage had been arranged because he had a whim. Victor had been visiting your nation for political reasons and your father had been giving him a tour of your laboratory back home when you met him; your now husband had threatened to take the power away from your father if you didn’t marry him upon finding out your intellect could be a match to his. 

He extended his arm, “Doom will fix it right now, stop crying.” 

Before you knew what was going on, you were against a hard surface with a heavy and cold metal pressed on your back. As the realization hit, your crying abruptly stopped. Unconsciously but quite happily, you leaned onto the hard surface.

“You’re hugging me,” you marveled, the words escaping your mouth as your giddy brain failed to filter them. 

Your husband cleared his throat and faked a cough. “Doom is not. Doom— well... look! There it is, yes!” his armored arms unwrapped from your chubby form. Victor quickly picked up the first tool he found behind you and putting distance between his chest and your face showed it to you, a digital sketch pad, “Doom is after all going to fix the design, yes. Doom—“ he uncharacteristically stuttered, “we will redo it from scratch.”

Giggling, you looked downward at your shoes to try and keep all your burst of emotions in. 

“Why are you laughing? You were crying a minute ago! Are you about to have a panic attack?”

You shook your head, trying to stop laughing and failing. 

“What is so amusing then? Have you forgotten how much delay we will have on our updated doombots now?”

“I finally got you to hug me.”

“Doom didn’t hug you!” he insisted, “Doom was grabbing the pad.”

Victor got closer to you so you both would be able to see the tactile screen while he projected the model you had ruined against the wall. Pointing at said model, he explained what it was that needed to be completely scrapped. 

“Doom doesn’t understand how you could mess up something this easy.”

Feeling guilty for making him lose his time, you confessed, “I ruined it on purpose.”

His head whipped to the side. “Why would anyone ever do that?!” He didn’t let you answer the inquiry and continued speaking, “does Doom need to call a doctor? Maybe Doom should contact Strange after all,” he mused, “Doom must speak with the head cook, they could’ve put something in your meals...”

“It’s the only way you pay attention to me. You even hugged me this time around!”

“Fine,” he defeatedly accepted, “Doom hugged you, so what? You were upset and crying, it bothered Doom.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what is the point, my queen?” He mocked you by using your title. 

He was so exasperating sometimes! How could he not see you felt lonely when he couldn’t even speak about himself in first person while in your presence? You didn’t have anyone but him, and when you two weren’t fighting or having sex, he didn’t bother speaking to you — you didn’t even know if he found you attractive or if it was the accessibility what prompted him to have intercourse with you. It wasn’t fair. 

Your mouth felt dry all of the sudden. You had to actually tell him all of that, but it wasn’t easy. Victor had never been violent towards you, but you had seen his torture methods. 

“I didn’t choose this,” you dared to answer him, it was now or never, “you only pay attention to me when I cry or when we fight, sex is a chore, I don’t have friends, all my days are spent in a laboratory or in a court... I need love! At least some attention. I’m human, Victor.”

The tension fogged the room, thicker than the curtains hiding what you could only imagine to be a beautiful sunset. He took his mask off, the clank of the metal against the floor making you jump. 

You had thought he would say something, but he continued undoing his armor, hurriedly and not caring how much noise the metal pieces made as they fell onto the floor. 

His warm hands sent shivers down your spine upon making contact with your shoulders. Your eyes fluttered closed, hands sliding up to rest on his biceps. It was without a single doubt the most intimate moment you had shared with Victor. You were scared of it not being real. 

“I will do better, my queen,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around your neck to pull you in. “I isolate you to protect you, you know how many enemies we have. I trust you with my laboratory, with my nation, with my life.”

You fully leaned against his chest this time, nodding against his shirt. “I get frustrated sometimes, that’s all.”

Victor hummed in acknowledgment. He let a moment of silence to be cast upon you, mulling over his thoughts. Determined on actually doing better because Victor Von Doom always kept his promises, his embrace tightened. “I do love you,” he confessed, it was the first time he told you those three words. “I simply fail to show it.”

“I do love you too,” you assured him. “I never thought I would but here I am.”

Chuckling, he lowered his hand to your ass where he let it rest. “Why don’t we do something productive and show it to each other? I’m sure from now on it won’t be a chore.”

Lifting your head off his chest, you craned your neck to cover his mouth with yours as an answer.


End file.
